


mistletoe is a crock of shit (99 percent of the time)

by deceptivelycomplex3925



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, because I'm having a lot of Swan Mills Charming family feels, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5334374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deceptivelycomplex3925/pseuds/deceptivelycomplex3925
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh, come on, Regina. One present before bed.”</p><p> She’s receiving about eight pairs of puppy dog eyes and honestly, this is completely unfair. There are rules to Christmas. One of the most prominent being you don’t open the presents until Christmas morning. But this – everyone around her – they’re her family. Her family. So –</p><p> “One present,” she relents, sighing like it’s an incredible imposition on her part. It’s not. But she has to keep up appearances. She can’t be seen as the pushover. Even if that’s exactly what she is when it comes to those she loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mistletoe is a crock of shit (99 percent of the time)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm a sucker for the holidays and I would give my right arm to have an episode of Christmas at Regina's. 
> 
> No beards. No mentions of them. Because after this season? I'm past so fucking done with them. 
> 
> Oh, and just because my good friend and I spent a while on the names: Zelena and Robin's little girl (we're going to pretend he's spending Christmas with Roland and the Merry Men this year) is Mia Elizabeth. And Snow and David's little girl is Riley Grace.
> 
> Also, overly-emotional-over-having-so-much-family-who-loves-her Regina makes me want to swallow my own fist.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this and wouldn't it be so awesome if we could all have a Swen Christmas?

“No. Absolutely not.”

  
There’s a sharp elbow in her side and she reaches over to grab a handful of cookie dough, flopping it onto the Christmas tree Emma had been shaping for the past five minutes. There’s a streak of flour along the line of a pale right cheekbone and another smatter of it right under her nose when she whips her head up to glare at Regina, mouth agape.

  
“Snow, I don’t really care how many times you’ve ‘perfected’ it. You are not bringing _dirt_ _cake_ into my home.”

  
Emma beats a fist into her now much larger glob of dough, muttering under her breath. Regina catches a few curse words and bites at her bottom lip to keep from smiling. Then Snow’s whining reaches her ears again and she sighs, rolling her shoulder a little to keep the phone from slipping.

  
“Oh, _fine_. But it stays at the very end of the table and if you so much as set _foot_ into my kitchen with a container of it – ”

  
Emma rolls her eyes and Regina sees it in her periphery. She flicks some flour in her hair and Emma’s mouth drops. Regina chuckles. Snow halts mid-sentence and Regina hangs up on her before she can finish her question.

  
“You did _not_ just flick flour in my hair.”

  
Regina sets the phone down on the counter behind them. “Your mother is making _dirt_ _cake_ , Emma.”

  
“So that gives you the right to assault me?”

  
Regina rolls her eyes before moving to grab the vanilla extract and pouring a tablespoon into the mixing bowl.

  
“You’ll live. Your Christmas tree sugar cookies, however…”

  
Emma scowls. “Santa’s got a hefty lump of coal in his bag for you solely because of that.”

  
Regina tuts. 

  
“What even is that?” Emma asks as Regina whisks the ingredients, the muscles of her forearm relaxing and contracting with the movement.

 

“Crème caramel.” Emma peers over her shoulder, her chin bumping gently against the top of it as her brow crinkles. Regina’s grip on the whisk tightens a bit. Emma’s eyebrows hike up. Regina clears her throat and scoots the bowl closer to her. “You might know of it as flan?”

  
Emma’s face scrunches in thought before she shrugs and goes back to reshaping her cookie dough. Regina lets out an inaudible whoosh of air. She loosens her hand.

  
“Whatever. You’re making it so it’s gotta be delicious.”

 

* * *

 

“Ma, I’m not wearing this.”

  
Emma’s head pokes through the deep red knitted sweater and she tugs her hair out of the neckline before adjusting the arms of it.

  
“Kid. If I have to wear it then so do you.”

  
“Mom’s not wearing hers.”

  
Emma snorts. “That’s because she threw it into the fire pit outside before charring it to pieces.”

  
Henry scowls. Emma pulls at the hem of her sweater. It’s itchy and already too hot but Snow had ‘spent weeks making it for you, Emma’ and had leveled her with that damn _smile_ of hers. That one where she condenses about a million emotions into one and wears it like a chapstick on her lips.

  
So, yeah. She was wearing it. But dammit, if she couldn’t set a fireball to it like Regina, then she was going to make Henry suffer through incessant fidgeting and itching with her.

  
“I wish _I_ could set a fireball to this,” he grumbles as he slips it on over his dress shirt and vest. He’s almost seventeen now but still so tall and lanky that it swallows him and kind of makes him look like a ten year old again. Emma’s heart squeezes. And then she starts laughing.

  
Henry spreads his arms out and glowers. Emma reaches for her phone and snaps a picture before he surges forward.

  
“Delete that right now, Ma. I swear to – ”

  
“I’m sending it to all of your friends,” she sing-songs. She darts out of his room as he lunges at her again and she bolts down the stairs, still laughing and Henry clomping after her – their feet thunderous on the stairs and Regina’s _so_ going to yell at them. “Maybe I’ll even send it to that girl you don’t think we know ab – ”

  
“Mom, stop her!”

  
Emma looks up from her phone – really, she was just sending it to Snow and David – and crashes straight into Regina at the foot of the stairs, hands preoccupied by her phone. She feels the softness of Regina’s breasts push into her knuckles a second later, hands coming up to grip at her biceps to steady her, and oh wow, okay. Regina smells _really_ good. Like vanilla and cookies, like the cinnamon she’d just sprinkled into their hot cocoas.

  
Regina’s blinking up at Henry, a warm, curious smile (and oh god, she’s wearing her apron) breaking across her face as Emma stumbles back from her, Regina’s hands still loose around her elbows.

  
“Why are you two playacting as elephants?”

  
Henry takes the last few steps and tugs at the neck of his sweater. “This is so _itchy_. Ma took a picture of me and is threatening my social status among the people of Storybrooke High.”

  
Regina nods her head, humming. She snatches the phone away from a still slightly dazed Emma and Emma lurches forward with a cry of ‘hey!’

  
Regina stops her with a palm to the stomach, narrowing her eyes at the picture on the screen. She turns her back on the both of them as they stand on tippy toes to see what she’s doing.

  
Twenty seconds later she spins back around, handing the phone to Emma, an accomplished smile on her lips.

  
“There you go, sweetheart. Social status saved.”

  
“Traitor.” Emma gives her the stink-eye. Regina gives her a playful narrowing of the eyes back.

  
Henry beams and sticks out his tongue as he follows his mother into the kitchen to retrieve his cup of cocoa.

  
Emma pouts before a click on the recently deleted album finds the picture still very much there.

  
Emma restores it, grinning.

 

* * *

 

“Mistletoe is such a crock of shit.” Emma pokes at the little sprig mounted just above the entryway of the dining room.

  
“It’s a holiday tradition and like romantic or whatever, Ma, chill.”

  
“A man could steal a kiss from a woman but if she refused it was considered bad luck? Excuse me if I don’t find that romantic or whatever.”

  
Henry and Regina still from where they had been setting the table. “Is that really its origin?”

  
Emma brings a hand up to cup at the back of her neck, cheeks flushing. “Well, I mean that’s what google said. So….yeah?”

  
Regina rolls her eyes, lips ticking up at the corners. Henry places another fork on one of the many placemats. “Well, _our_ mistletoe symbolizes love and new beginnings.”

  
Emma frowns. “New beginnings?”

  
Henry looks up and gives her a crooked smirk, eyes darting to Regina who’s in the kitchen grabbing another handful of plates. “Mhm.”

  
Emma balks.

 

* * *

 

She's going for another glass of eggnog when she hears the sniffling.

  
It takes her a few seconds to place it before her eyes land on a door near the far end of the kitchen.

  
She sets down her empty mug and when she moves to reveal who the sniffling belongs to she's a little less surprised than she thinks she should be at finding Regina Mills crying in her cramped (though still obnoxiously organized) pantry.

  
"Emma," she breathes, voice rough and hands wiping feverishly under her eyes. She gives a watery chuckle and shakes her head, arms coming down to cradle her stomach. "I was looking for some more cinnamon."

  
"With the door closed?" Emma probes gently.

  
Regina gives another laugh, just a sharp exhale of breath. It trembles a little. "With the door closed."

  
Emma leans against the door frame, head titled, smile lopsided and gentle. Knowing.

  
Regina avoids eye contact for as long as she can, fiddling with the tissue crumpled up in her right hand. She exhales a moment later, misty eyes tipping up to meet Emma's.

  
She moves to speak but Emma just smiles softly.

  
"I know," she whispers and Regina swallows. Emma takes a step forward and brushes her knuckles along a damp cheekbone, catches a tear.

  
"We're not going anywhere, Regina. I know you think this is temporary, that it's going to be ripped away from you at any given moment but it's not. We're here and we're yours. Forever. Okay?"

  
Regina's hand shoots up, stifling a choked cry a little too late; her shoulders quake. Emma closes the remaining distance and envelops her in a hug, a fist clutching fiercely at Emma's shirt.

  
"Always," Emma promises into her hair, pressing a kiss there.

  
Emma holds her, hand smoothing gently into the planes of her shoulder blades before she feels Regina inhale deeply. Regina’s fingers are tracing the fabric of her sweater. Emma’s not sure she even realizes she’s doing it.

  
"Why do you smell like nutmeg and alcohol?"

  
Regina's got her face in the crook of Emma's neck and Emma freezes as Regina pulls back, red-rimmed eyes now narrowing in suspicion.

  
"Uhh...I may have spiked the eggnog?"

  
Regina smacks at the middle of Emma's breastbone and Emma hunches in her shoulders, feigning offense.

  
"Henry's had three glasses, Emma!"

  
Emma rolls her eyes. "There's like half a cup of brandy in it, Regina. The kid's metabolism is rapid enough to burn off a tranquilizer in under a minute. He's fine."

  
Regina fixes her with a look. Emma gives one back. Regina relents, sighing.

  
"You might as well make another one for us, then." She makes her way back into the kitchen, turning abruptly with a finger pointed at Emma, blood red nail catching on the light. “A separate one for those under the age of 18, please."

  
Emma clicks her tongue. "Damn. I was really hoping to get Riley and Neal drunk tonight."

  
Regina isn’t amused by the joke.

 

* * *

 

 "Auntie Gina!"

  
She turns just in time for a blur of strawberry curls and green velvet to launch itself into her legs, catching the toddler under her arms and hoisting her onto her hip.

  
Regina chuckles as she taps her niece on the nose. Mia giggles, cheeks flushed gently and hair wild around her shoulders. She's got a rich emerald dress on with white stockings. She's shoeless.

  
"How's my favorite girl?" Regina coos.

  
"Mummy says I get to spend the night with you." Her azure eyes shine with the words and she smiles a big toothy grin as she plays with one of Regina's earrings and twists a lock of her hair around a small finger.

  
Regina arches a brow. "Did she now?"

  
"Well, I figured it was a tradition after all this time," her sister remarks as she comes into the kitchen. Her hair's curled like Mia's as well. She's in a simple black dress with long sleeves and a pair of onyx heels. The only color on her the red of her hair and the jade in her earrings. "I know how you Charmings are with such soppy things."

  
Regina tucks a thick of Mia's hair behind her ear as Zelena sets down a few bottles of wine on the island, a bag filled with wrapped presents in her other hand.

  
"I'm not a Charming, dear. I don't do soppy."

  
Zelena snorts softly. "Not even for your darling Emma?"

  
Regina's head snaps up, jaw instantly tightening. "How many times do I have to te - "

  
Zelena waves her off with a lazy hand. "Oh, at least a dozen more, I'm sure. Don't worry, sis. Your secret's safe with me. Mia, darling. Help Mummy put the presents under the tree?"

  
Mia squirms out of Regina's arms and takes Zelena's hand, bouncing on her feet as they round the corner.

  
Regina blinks after them, cheeks hot and heart thumping in her chest.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, come on, Regina. One present before bed.”

  
She’s receiving about eight pairs of puppy dog eyes and honestly, this is _completely_ unfair. There are rules to Christmas. One of the most prominent being you don’t open the presents until Christmas morning. But this – everyone around her – they’re her family. Her _family_. So –

  
“ _One_ present,” she relents, sighing like it’s an incredible imposition on her part. It’s not. But she has to keep up appearances. She can’t be seen as the pushover. Even if that’s exactly what she is when it comes to those she loves.

  
Henry whoops as the kids all squeal and David helps Snow pass out the presents as Emma just gives her a dopey grin. She may be a little tipsy. Regina rolls her eyes. Emma’s smile grows.

  
“You’re drunk, Miss Swan,” she admonishes as Mia, Neal, and Riley all huddle in a circle beside the tree with their presents in their laps.

  
Emma’s on the arm of the sofa next to her and Zelena’s eyeing them from her place on the loveseat. Regina ignores her.

  
“Am not. I just feel warm and fuzzy. Must be these socks you bought me.”

  
Regina’s eyes flicker to the white thermal ensconced toes wriggling back and forth. “You can’t go barefoot in weather like this, Emma. You’ll – ”

  
“Catch my death, yeah, yeah. You worry too much.” Emma’s eyes glitter as they find Regina’s and her upper arm brushes against Emma’s thigh when she shifts on the couch. She hears Emma’s breath catch.

  
There’s a small rectangular box laid in her lap. She blinks down at it.

  
“It doesn’t say who it’s from. Just that it’s for you.” Snow’s giving her a _look_ , something keen and a bit haughty, before she hands a small bag to Emma and moves to the side of the room, camera poised and ready.

  
“Ready, set, open!”

  
Regina keeps hers in her lap as she watches Henry open his. It’s one of the presents she’d gotten, she can tell by the wrapping. His head tips up to find her eyes, a warm smile on his face when he takes out the laminated comic books. _Thank you_ , he mouths. Regina winks at him, Neal, Riley, and Mia all gasping and giggling happily at their own presents – mostly toys – as David helps them open the packaging and Snow continues to snap pictures.

  
She meets Regina’s gaze and lowers her camera, eyebrows lifting. She nods to Regina’s lap. Regina feels Emma shift beside her.

  
“It’s not anything special,” Emma murmurs, sounding a little self-conscious. Regina blinks up at her.

  
“This is from you?”

  
Emma ducks her head, blushing. Regina’s instantly enthralled. She picks at the tissue paper in her bag. “Like I said. Nothing special.” She shrugs and moves to open her own present. It’s a watch. A rather beautiful one with a charcoal leather band.

  
Emma gives a wry chuckle, looking over to David and Snow who are watching her with eyes full of an endless kind of adoration, smiles soft and so very warm.

  
“You always say you need one to keep the time straight,” David says as he hands Neal his freshly unwrapped transformers action figure.

  
“I do,” Emma says around a laugh, running a thumb along the glass of the watch reverently. “Thank you,” she breathes.

  
She puts it on and then tilts her head to look at Regina. Regina jolts a little. She’d been staring. Emma arches a brow.

  
“You gonna open that anytime soon?”

  
Regina clears her throat, tries for a glare.

  
It’s a silver necklace with a locket at the end of the chain. Inside there’s a picture of all of them. David and Snow. Neal and Riley. Mia and Zelena. Emma and Henry. Regina in the very middle. Emma’s arm around her waist and Henry tucked into her side.

  
It’s from last year’s Christmas. Emma’d bought Regina a camcorder with a stand to go with it and had insisted they test it out. They’d fought over how to set the timer on it to take a picture but they’re all smiling in this one.

  
Regina feels the hot prick of tears welling in her eyes as she fingers the locket, wandering how Emma’d gotten the picture small enough to fit inside.

  
“Scissors and lots of attempts,” Emma says, reading her mind.

  
“What’d you get, Mom?”

  
Regina sucks in a sharp breath, eyes on Emma’s arm around her waist. On her own smile.

  
“It’s…it’s a necklace.”

  
It’s suddenly very quiet and Regina realizes with absolute horror that she’s now silently crying.

  
She closes her fist around the locket and stands swiftly. “Excuse me,” she whispers feebly before fleeing to the kitchen.

  
She’s steadying herself on the island when she hears the familiar gait.

  
“Shit, Regina…I’m so sorry. I didn’t – I should have waited to give it to you in – ”

  
“It’s beautiful,” Regina breathes as she turns to face Emma.

  
“I didn’t even think to have Snow give you another one.”

  
Regina caresses a thumb over the indentions on the outside of the locket, brow knitting.

  
“You got me something else?”

  
Emma cheeks tint red again, eyes glancing down, hand coming up to her neck. “Uh…yeah?”

  
“We said we wouldn’t get each other anything this year. You truly want to turn me into a sap don't you?”

  
“I lied? Also, you've been a sap your entire life, Regina. You're just letting it show more often now. Must be Snow's influence.”

  
Regina chuckles, eyelashes damp but heart swelling, feeling full, full, full.

  
“I lied too.”

  
Emma’s smile is quick and true.

 

* * *

 

"Okay, that's the second time Zelena has paid me a compliment. This one was about my _hair_. How many glasses of wine has she had?"

  
"Four," Regina says, jaw taut, as she eyes her sister over Emma's shoulder. Zelena tips her glass, smirk slotted firmly in place. Regina purses her lips. Emma's brow corrugates and she turns to look over her shoulder.

  
Regina turns on her heel and heads to the kitchen. Her sanctuary. Her sanctuary where there's a surplus of dishes waiting to be washed, an excuse to busy her hands.

  
She flicks on the faucet and grabs one of the mixing bowls her and Emma had used earlier.

  
"Okay. What's going on?" Emma comes up on her left, back leaning against the edge of the counter, arms crossed over her sleeveless crimson dress.

  
She and Henry had both worn their sweaters for a solid hour after Snow and David had arrived with Neal and Riley and there's still about five different pictures on her phone from the photo session Snow had forced them into that Regina's going to print out and put on the fridge. She may even frame one of them.

  
After that, Emma had stomped up the stairs to change, Henry in tow, and Snow beaming at her own pictures on her camera.

  
Regina's been failing miserably at keeping her eyes to herself ever since.

  
"I don't know what you mean," Regina replies breezily.

  
Emma gives her a pointed look. "Uh huh. Everyone's acting so weird this year." Emma blinks. "Shit, do you think it's the eggnog?"

  
Regina gives her a well-placed side eye even as she shakes her head and feels her lips tug up into a smile. Emma bumps her hip against her own.

  
"Come on. Spill."

  
And really, she's had a few too many glasses of wine herself. They all have. After the kids had been tucked in and promised the rest of the presents for in the morning - dispersed all along the floor on blanket pallets in Henry's room - they'd uncorked the bottles of wine. Add that to the brandy in the eggnog and Regina was feeling a warm, dangerous kind of loose.

  
Enough so that she says her next few words on a breathy chuckle. "My sister is under the impression that you and I are madly in love with each other and are too oblivious to realize it."

  
Regina keeps her gaze on the mixing bowl she’s still mindlessly washing but out the corner of her eye she sees Emma stiffen.

  
She looks up at her. Her mouth’s parted a little and she’s blinking rapidly, eyes forward. And then she clears her throat and lifts her shoulder, body relaxing again with the movement. Regina feels her stomach flutter a bit at the reaction.

  
Her laugh is a bit too high-pitched. “Well, that’s – I mean, you Mills’ _are_ known for your sarcasm.”

  
Regina’s brow ticks up. “Are we now?”

  
Emma rubs at the back of her neck - for the third time tonight - and Regina feels the corner of her mouth curve up at the mannerism. Emma only does that when she’s embarrassed. Or when she’s trying to hide something. Regina thinks this time it might be a little of both.

  
Emma nods, cheeks matching the color of her dress. “Yep. Sure are. Is that David calling my name?”

  
She bolts and Regina sucks in her bottom lip, smiling like a fool in love.

  
She groans softly. Her sister is an arrogant _twit_.

 

* * *

 

“Can I open my present now?”

  
“You sound like Henry as a toddler when you whine like that.”

  
“I’ve been waiting all night, Regina. Everyone’s finally asleep. Please?” She draws out the first ‘e’ and Regina huffs, wondering how she became such a goddamn sucker for this overgrown child sitting beside her.

  
The fire crackles a few feet away from them and Regina sets her half-empty glass of wine on the floor, moving off the blanket they’d thrown down and scooting on her knees to reach at the very back of the tree.

  
She comes back with a small grey box and nibbles at the inside of her lip as she fingers it, suddenly awash with self-consciousness.

  
“It’s not – if you don’t like it you don’t have to – ”

  
“Regina,” Emma cuts off gently. She holds out a hand. Regina sighs and places the box in her palm.

  
When she opens it her breath snags in her throat and her hand kind of just hovers over the top of it. Regina’s heart pounds away in her chest, a knot forming in her gut. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. She knows Emma. She knew this was too much. She shouldn’t have – they’re not even _together_ and she’d just -

  
Emma’s eyes start to water and Regina sucks in a sharp breath. _Stupid, so stupid_.

  
“It was a silly idea, I can take it back. I shouldn’t have – ”

  
Regina reaches for it and Emma twists away. “No,” Emma says fiercely. Regina’s mouth parts, blinking at the tone.

  
“You…you really want me to have this?” Emma whispers, eyes on the silver key, thumbing it with veneration.

  
“Yes,” Regina says on an exhale. “I’ve – Henry and I fixed up one of the guestrooms for you. And one of the bathrooms would be – ”

  
Here, Emma looks stricken and Regina’s heart stutters in her chest. “You – you’re asking me to move in with you?”

  
Regina’s eyes widen. “No!” She cringes at the loudness. She clears her throat, fidgeting with the locket around her neck. “No,” she says much softer. “I just – I wanted you to have a key. I wanted you to have a place that made you feel safe. And I understand if my home…if it’s not one that gives you comfort but if it does, if maybe you ever just want to get away from – ” Regina cuts herself off, face on fire and teeth clamping down on the inside of her mouth. “Like I said, it was a silly idea, I just – I want you to have a place here in Storybrooke that makes you feel like you belong. Because you – you’re family and I wa – ”

  
Lips cover her own, muffling her reply.

  
Emma pulls back, cheeks flushed gently from the warmth of the fireplace and green eyes sparkling with a renewed kind of mirth.

  
“I’ve never felt safer than I do when I’m with you, Regina.”

  
Regina’s stomach flips, feeling like she’s on the precipice of something, all of her emotions just a word away from tipping over and spilling into every cell of her being.

  
“What – Emma, what are you saying?”

  
“I’m saying I’m not as oblivious as your sister thinks. And I don’t think you are, either.”

  
“So, this isn’t…this isn’t just the wine?”

  
“I’ve been just barely tipsy all night, Regina. I know what I’m doing. I know what I want. I’ve known for three Christmases.”

  
Regina’s hand trembles as her fingers come to press against her lips, eyes fluttering at Emma’s words. The emotion swimming in green irises.

  
“Is it uncouth of me to say that the key actually _was_ me asking you to move in with us?”

  
Emma laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners and the orange glow of the fire playing gently off the loose curls in her hair.

  
“We’re going to be _that_ cliché, aren’t we?”

  
Regina smirks, teeth grazing the bottom of her lip. “Would we ever be anything but?”

  
Emma kisses her again and this time Regina tangles her fingers in those curls of hers and kisses her back.

 

* * *

 

“Woman, I need sleep,” Emma groans, even as her fingers card through dark brown locks. Soft lips press even softer kisses into her skin and a wickedly talented tongue dips into her navel, swirls a bit. Emma’s back arches.

  
“I waited until five,” Regina purrs into her abdomen, before blowing gently just a tad lower. Emma’s hips twitch, overly sensitive. Regina hums.

  
Emma tugs her up for a kiss, an eager tongue flicking at the roof of her mouth. Emma nips at her bottom lip in retaliation and feels Regina smile.

  
“Five is not an hour anyone should be awake for, ever.”

  
Regina tangles their legs together and throws an arm over her stomach, head resting on her chest.

  
“Says the woman who was up not three hours ago.”

  
“Well, that,” Emma drawls, raking her nails up the length of Regina’s thigh, “was definitely worth the loss of sleep.”

  
Regina shivers and nips at Emma’s ear. “Yes it was,” she whispers. "I'm still waiting for this supposed second present, by the way." 

 

Emma stills, cheeks going pink. "Oh, uhm, right. That. I actually meant one of Snow's presents when I said that. Mine...well, mine was - would it be uncouth of me to say that kiss last night was my second present?" 

 

Regina laughs. "Yes. But I wanted it just as much as you did so I think it cancels it out." 

  
Emma’s stomach growls and Regina rolls her eyes, smiling with ridiculous amounts of affection.

  
“Still ever proficient at ruining moments,” Regina says as she rolls over and stands, donning a set of pajamas and slipping on her robe.

  
“Hey, it’s not my fault my body needs nutrients. Maybe if _someone_ wasn’t so goddamn insatia – ”

  
A pillow thwacks her in the face.

 

* * *

 

Zelena’s looking awfully smug when she sees Regina’s fingers drawing mindless circles into Emma’s thigh on the couch as they all watch the kids open the rest of their presents. All sleepy-eyed and happy smiles. Regina ignores her. Again.

  
It’s when they’re in the kitchen cooking breakfast for everyone that Henry wraps an arm around both of their waists and squeezes. “I’m really happy you two finally figured it out.”

  
He kisses them both on the cheek and then sighs. “But, like, you couldn’t have waited until New Year’s maybe? I owe Zelena ten bucks.”

  
“Wait, you only bet ten?” Emma asks, sounding a little offended.

  
Henry shrugs. “Eh, I wasn’t all that confident.”

  
Emma snorts. “Gee, thanks, kid.”

  
“We were all kind of crossing our fingers for this Christmas,” Snow says from the doorway.

  
“Mom!”

  
“What? It’s true. You’re both so stubborn.”

  
Henry lifts a shoulder. “She’s got you there, Moms.”

  
Emma ruffles his hair. “Yeah, well the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  
Henry swats at her hand.

  
“No, but really. We’re all so happy for you.” Snow says, tone light and sincere.

  
Regina groans from her place at the stove and Emma sees a smirk start to slowly form on Snow’s lips. And then she’s stalking forward and tugging at Regina’s wrist, pulling her away from the stove a little before wrapping her up in a quick hug, squeezing fiercely. Regina’s face contorts and Emma and Henry stifle their laughter, failing miserably. They both snap pictures with their phones and compare, Emma letting out a snort at Regina’s face in one of Henry’s.

  
“Snow, you have five seconds to let go of me or I’m setting fire to this horrendous cardigan of yours.”

  
Snow gives one last squeeze before letting go and gliding out of the kitchen.

  
Henry and Emma hide their phones behind their backs. Regina’s cheeks are flushed.

 

* * *

 

“I saw you two with your phones. Dish duty for both of you.”

  
“Ma took more than me!”

  
Emma sputters. “Kid, what the hell. Mutiny much?” She pushes him into the kitchen as he snickers. “If you do the silverware, I’ll do the plates,” she offers.

  
“Deal.”

  
Regina’s placing the vase of flowers back in the middle of the dining room table before she makes her way around it and wraps her arms around Emma, slipping her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

  
She looks absurdly pleased with herself.

  
“You’re a tyrant,” Emma says as she laces her fingers at the small of Regina’s back.

  
Regina hums, smirk playing gently on her bare lips. Her teeth play at the bottom one, a look of pure mischief in her eyes as she slips her hands out of Emma's pockets and gives her a little shove, knocking her backward a bit. 

  
Emma’s brow furrows before she looks up. She lets out a small groan.

  
“You’re gonna kiss me under this damned mistletoe, aren’t you?”

  
Regina smiles, bright as the lights on the tree.

  
“To new beginnings.”

  
She grabs a fistful of Emma’s henley and tugs her in for a kiss.

  
And okay, maybe mistletoe isn’t _so_ bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Just imagine all of these deliciously candid pictures hanging on all of their fridges. And that one from Emma's phone Regina secretly sent to her own. Ugh. This fucking family makes me into a bowl of emotionally crippled jello. 
> 
> Also, I promise I'm working on chapter six of 'a mistake'!


End file.
